Steel thunder for stolen pride

There's rumbling in the pit
ringing in the stones as they're hit
in the belly of the thunder
screaming like limbs torn asunder
recognise the dreams in the real
filter fiction from the non by feel
blood warmth in the kiss of the steel

keep an eye on the world
but ignorance is bliss  
leave it to its blindness
maybe call it kindness
losers are the keepers
the finders cliff top leapers
the squint eyed weepers
truth be the reaper
the words will lead us
to pastures dead
where the living runs deeper
to souls in the red
and paper turns to pages
before it turns back
but the spaces are keener
with nothing but ink between them

vision bound by the lashes
mind still reeling from the clashes
but now
there's rumbling in the pit